


Live and Die

by cousinrayray



Series: Rick'n'Morty Songfic Train [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: C137cest, Fluff, Just shameless inspirations, Kissing, M/M, awkward confessions, handjobs, this here is songfic country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cousinrayray/pseuds/cousinrayray
Summary: More songfic. This time it's micro-angsty first timey fluff. Rick slips up and Morty is, well, Morty.Songfic courtesy of the Avett Brothers Live and Die





	Live and Die

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, back to wholesome incest slash, thank goodness. 
> 
> This one is more 'inspired by', in that there's no song lyrics directly written here. I think that's how I'll do most of these, I don't know what I'm doing, really.
> 
> It follows the song and references lyrics though, so feel encouraged to give the song a listen. It's a real charmer.

All it took was one moment for Morty to realize he was standing at a precipice. 

It came during a late night in Rick’s garage. Rick was trying to repair his molecular deaccelerator and it wasn't going well, largely because he was drinking steadily, but he was still in a fairly friendly mood. Morty fetched him things and watched from his seat on an upturned egg crate, enjoying the passing time as he always did. As the night wore on he started drifting off, slumped against the side of Rick’s workbench. 

And then, in that half-conscious twilight, Morty felt a calloused hand gently brush some of the hair on his forehead aside. He heard a quiet rumble, “Ah, kiddo”, and a brief inhalation. He rose back into greater awareness just in time to feel a faint prickle of stubble on his skin as thin lips pressed softly, briefly against his temple. 

Morty wished he was controlled enough to prevent it, but he wasn't, and his body tensed with shock.

He felt Rick flinch back, the wind in his wake making him shiver. His eyes flew open and Rick was already wide-eyed and stuttering “M-Morty, uh, I-I- uh, was, I-” 

And here it was. Here was the moment where Morty was suddenly given a agonizingly conscious choice in the course of his future, when a multitude of paths died and sprung to life in a dazzling burst. 

But when it came he just gawked at Rick’s face, a frightened mirror of his own. And then he did a very classic Morty move in high-pressure social situations- he punted it and ran. 

He shot Rick a hasty thumbs-up and a stammered, apologetic “S’cool dawg! W-w-we good!” as he fled out the garage door, already kicking himself internally.

 

Morty knew that both he and Rick were stupid in their own ways. And also in very similar ways, one of his guilty comforts. So he wasn't surprised that after he got over his own nervous shock, he found Rick was now avoiding _him_ , but he was frustrated. 

He hated it when Rick closed off. He was barely ever at the house, he never worked long nights in the garage, and he avoided Morty neatly every time the kid tried to get them to talk for more than three seconds. It was all Morty’s fault, though, and if he wanted things to get better obviously he'd have to figure out something. 

Finally he steeled his nerve and went directly to Rick’s room one night, dodging the reflexive somnolent gunfire with a panicked, “It’s me!”

He waited for his grandfather's muttered curses to die down and fiddled his hands and made himself breathe. After the third breath, he forced himself to speak to the dim shape on the bed. 

“R-Rick, y-you know you..” He took one more deep inhale. “You don't have to hide from me, or whatever. You, you know what I mean? It's not, it's- it's ok, I-” 

It was so hard to get his words out with Rick’s flat gaze on him, and his eyes skittered around the room, avoiding it. He had to do it. Even if he didn't have the courage to just blurt out everything at once, he couldn't stomach things staying as they were now. 

“It's, it's not a big deal that you k-kissed m-m-my forehead Rick,” he said lamely, rubbing his neck. “That's, that's pretty normal grandpa stuff, you know?” 

He blushed as soon as he finished. He was being deliberately dense, and they both knew it. 

Rick didn't chew him out, or take the escape offered. He just looked at him with a slightly cocked brow, empty and bored. 

Morty tried again. “And well, you know, e-e-either w-way I, it's- I-I don't mind. It's, it's nice to know you care, you know?” _Nice to know I'm not alone_. But that would have been insane, way too big a leap. He laughed weakly, hoping he could keep it together. 

His ears were on fire. He felt exposed and shaky, convinced he had already gone too far, and Rick’s sudden scoff made him jump. His grandfather rummaged beside his bed and drew out his flask. He took a few deep chugs, looked at his grandson with a harder gaze and muttered flatly, “R-really Morty.” Morty couldn't tell if it was a question, or what it was asking if it was. 

He should just do it. Surely Rick had to know, had to at least guess anyway? But Morty wasn't absolutely certain, and it was less than encouraging, that wall of an expression.

So he just mumbled, “J-just, please, stop avoiding me, and- and start taking me places again and stuff. I... I m-miss you, Rick.”

There. That was the absolute most he could make himself say. That was the limit to his reserves of courage. 

Rick’s expression softened slightly. He took a calmer swig before looking Morty over one more time and saying quietly, “Sure, kid. We- we’ll go somewhere tomorrow.”

A relieved smile spread over Morty’s face, and to his secret greater delight, a hint of a smile showed on Rick’s too before he banished him out of his bedroom. 

 

“Oh man Morty, we’re gonna- we're gonna be rich, Morty! L-living like fucking kings! Fifty thousand flurbos for these fuckers!” Rick cackled madly, gesturing wildly at wriggling bag of alien grubs on the ship’s floor behind them. 

Morty grinned. He loved seeing Rick like this, color blooming as his excitement transformed him, made him beautiful. This was the sort of Rick that made him feel empowered, like they could conquer the whole universe together. He reigned in what was sure to be a dopey look on his face and replied eagerly,

“Awww shit, R-Rick, that's a long day at, at Blips and Chitz.”

“Oh fuck Blips and Chitz, Morty. I- I mean, not fuck it, ‘cuz it's still awesome, but, I'm taking- we’re going to somewhere better than that. Think planet-wide amusement park, think top-of-the-line luxury cruise to watch endangered space-whales, ba- k-kiddo.”

Rick normally would have no problem throwing out a casual ‘baby’, but he had canned it there, which was interesting. And that second suggestion had a romantic undertone to it, if you squinted, maybe?

Morty wasn't sure, and it annoyed him even as it made his heart pound. He didn't want to be scrambling after hints, wasting time dithering. He supposed it was just Rick’s influence at work. He hated uncertainty.

He replied, “Shit, Rick, t-that all sounds great,” in a desperately casual, but too-breathy voice, near-convinced as always that his heart was on his sleeve, that every word surely sang about his esteem for the man beside him.

Then Rick added, in a tone that landed just a touch short of nonchalant, “And you know, M-Morty, half of those- those flurbos are yours.”

Morty gasped, “R-really?”. Rick would occasionally make magnanimous gestures like this, but it was rare. 

Just like those few other times, Rick sounded faintly embarrassed as he scratched his neck and said, “Yeah, my man, you- you earned them fair and square. G-good work today kid. One time, limited time offer though, any more dumb questions and- and I'm taking it back.” 

He finished with laughably transparent gruffness, taking a self-conscious swig as he glanced at Morty. 

It was cute and cutely familiar behavior, but it made his brain spin wildly as all the old and new questions intensified. Was Rick just feeling guilty? Or was he trying to say something, in some oblique Rick fashion? 

And God, did he have any idea what he did to Morty? 

Suddenly Morty had had enough. Enough questioning. If he had to, he would fucking drag them where they needed to go so that he could finally get some answers. It wasn't much to go on but it didn't matter. And if he was completely wrong, at least he had gone out in bold Rick style. 

“T-thank you Rick,” he said, throat going dry, and he continued in a shakier voice, “J-just Rick a-and Morty, a h-hundred years, right?” _Together forever, right?_ His gaze felt trapped on his grandfather as he spoke. 

Rick’s brows furrowed, and Morty watched him lose track of the snide remark about reusing old bits he was about to make when Morty reached out and laid his hand on the man's wrist.

He was quaking, could feel the tremors running through his core, but he felt oddly light. Because fuck it, he felt alive, and Rick wouldn't be able to pretend now. At least now he could be sure. 

“Rick, I w-want…” He swallowed hard. “I w-wish more, I want m-m-more than what h-happened...”

Rick barked out a harsh, strange laugh and it almost crumpled Morty then and there. He fished for his flask and took a long drink, staring at Morty before shaking his head and replying,

“You- you ran off after I gave you a, a peck on the head, Morty, I think that was a pretty- a pretty good summation of how good an idea any of, uh, that would be. Y-you were right the first time. For once. Don't ruin it.”

Rick looked like he was trying to be many things, cynical and critical and detached, but he was failing at all of them. He mostly looked lost, talking too quickly to be credible. 

“Rick, I- I ran away because…” He hesitated, wondering how to best put this in a way that would encourage Rick to do what he wanted. Honesty would be a nice plus, but, well, he was Rick’s grandson, after all, and he knew better than to think that was all it would take. 

“Well, b-because we’re the same in a lot of ways, Rick, um, you and I. We-we’re both afraid a lot. O-of lots of… different things, but especially of trusting people. And maybe, um, e-emotional i-intimacy” Shit, if he kept this up Rick would just get defensive and contrary. He could see the brow lowering already.

He thought for a wild second. _Be heard_. He darted in and gave Rick a quick kiss on the mouth, his lips leaving before either of them could react. 

The utterly shell-shocked expression on Rick’s face encouraged him enough to make him smile and add, “But we’re- we’re both crazy enough to k-keep doing reckless shit anyway.” 

Rick snorted, rubbing his brow and looking amused despite himself. He fixed Morty with a level gaze. 

His hand came up slowly, and he hesitantly pressed it against Morty’s cheek. 

Morty felt ripples of sensation spread from the touch, watched a tint of color bloom on his grandfather's lined expression. It looked as real as he had ever seen it. Rick was asking permission. Maybe he was even pleading. And he was watching Morty’s reaction so carefully, like it was his entire world.

Morty could definitely get used to being looked at like that, being given the recognition he had craved for what felt like forever. He wanted to give that recognition back and more. He stared back and let a small smile play at the corner of his mouth, his head tilting to lean against Rick’s palm. 

“Morty…”, his grandfather's deep voice drawled, full of so many things, questions and answers and Morty drew in a slow breath, feeling himself tilting on that edge of choice again. He blushed and knew what he was about to say was so needy, so schmaltzy, he might get laughed at and break the mood entirely, but he couldn't say anything else. 

“Please k-kiss me, Rick.” 

And Rick did smirk, his solemn expression cracking as his lips curled and his eyebrow rose at Morty as if to say _really?_

But he did kiss him. 

 

Morty knew they were both greedy, and it shouldn't have surprised him that things moved as quickly as they did. Still it seemed like he blinked and they had their hands fumbling for each other's pants, Rick’s mouth hot and shockingly desperate against his own. 

Each breath between them felt like a tug to one another as they happily pulled themselves over a cliff, and Morty _was_ happy to fall, he felt absolutely giddy at the thought that they would go together. It might have been crazy but Rick’s hand was there wrapped around him, urging him onwards in case he began to regain sanity and he knew from the low groans that his own fumbling, half-delirious pawing was having the same deleterious effect on his grandfather's reason. He wanted more, he wanted everything.

Then Rick stood up and pushed him, leaning him back over the console and slapping Morty's hand away to take them both in his own.

It was absolutely everything he had ever imagined and more, the sight of them pressed together around his grandfather’s clenching long-fingered hand a hypersaturated wrecking-ball to everything that had come before or would come afterwards. He lost control with a surprised jerk, spilling over the two of them, his eyes flying to the sight as soon as he could get them back open. 

“Ah M-Morty,” Rick sighed as he continued fisting them, the near-reverent sound of his name enough to make Morty shiver. He felt Rick tighten just as he began to grow too-sensitive and he gasped as the man came on top of them with a groan.

He leaned his head on Rick’s forehead as they panted afterwards, silently staking his claim. 

Rick, to his credit, heard him immediately. He smirked at the ground, then met Morty’s gaze so directly that it made them both go immediately cross-eyed and made Morty laugh and know that, at least right now, they were the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks guys! Idk if I really did the song justice, it's a very sweet little ditty, but it was fun to write regardless.
> 
> If the sex scene felt tacked-on, that's 'cuz it was, lol. Initially it ended with the kiss request. I might change it back.


End file.
